


The Way You Move

by grim_lupine



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, Plot What Plot, Possessive Behavior
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-07-20
Updated: 2009-07-20
Packaged: 2017-10-22 18:04:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,270
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/240974
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grim_lupine/pseuds/grim_lupine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There is a hitch in Merlin’s stride, small but noticeable to anyone who is looking.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Way You Move

-

\--

There is a hitch in Merlin’s stride, small but noticeable to anyone who is looking. And Arthur is definitely looking. Watching Merlin wince slightly as he shifts his weight from foot to foot reminds Arthur of the reason why he is doing so, floods him with vivid memories of this morning, the morning he spent ensuring that Merlin would remember his touch for days to come.

He’d woken when it was still dark out, warmed by the weight of Merlin’s body half on top of him, wrapped around him firmly. Arthur studied Merlin, lean and bare in his bed, mouth still red and swollen from the use he’d put it to earlier, and felt his cock twitch in interest. Merlin didn’t stir when Arthur slid an oil-slick finger into his body, but his brow furrowed a bit, and when Arthur joined the first finger with a second, Merlin’s eyes fluttered open and he let out a surprised moan.

Arthur smiled at him predatorily. “Morning,” he said, voice smooth and hungry, and twisted his fingers sharply. Merlin’s breath caught roughly; he tried to blink away his dazedness and answer, but his voice died away as Arthur thrust into him with three fingers and stretched them apart.

“Is that it, then?” Merlin managed to gasp out, arching an eyebrow, as Arthur spent what felt like hours pressing into him with those fingers. Arthur’s eyes flashed, and he pulled his hand away, dripped more oil onto it, and entered Merlin with four fingers. Merlin bit down on his lower lip, hard. The faint ache he felt was rapidly fading into a burn that consumed his body with its fury. “Arthur,” he growled out, and Arthur smirked and stroked that spot deep inside him that rolled heat down his spine.

“Patience, Merlin,” Arthur told him, and slid down his body to press the flat of his tongue to Merlin’s hole. Merlin cried out, bucked up against Arthur’s unshakeable hold. Arthur licked at him sloppily, held him spread open with fingers gleaming with oil, and slid his tongue inside as Merlin clenched his hands in the sheets and trembled with need. Arthur pulled his mouth away, scraped teeth gently over the edges of Merlin’s hole, and reached out blindly for the vial of oil.

“ _Finally_ ,” Merlin breathed out, watched hungrily as Arthur slicked himself and pushed Merlin’s legs apart. Arthur’s grin was a little strained as he pressed the head of his cock into Merlin, but he managed to sound appropriately smug as he said, “Eager, are we?”

He laughed in breathless joy as Merlin’s glare wavered when Arthur entered him fully, pulling him closer by the hips and leaning down to bite his collarbone. Merlin’s wet mouth fell open, and his hands came up to hold onto Arthur’s shoulders, white-knuckled, as Arthur fucked into him with sharp, controlled thrusts.

Merlin came with a rough curse, nails digging into Arthur’s skin, and Arthur followed right after him, bruising his marks onto Merlin’s hips. Arthur stilled his uneven breathing, then pulled out carefully, kissing Merlin and nipping at his lower lip; the broken noise Merlin made as Arthur slid two fingers back into his body rippled aftershocks of arousal through Arthur. Merlin’s hole was loose, sloppy and wet with Arthur’s come, and Merlin licked his lips and swallowed hard, throat working, as Arthur pulled his fingers out with a slick noise and smiled down at him, eyes dark.

“Sleep now,” Arthur told him, running his thumbnail down the length of Merlin’s spine and delighting in the shiver that followed. Merlin turned his head to mouth a wet kiss over Arthur’s shoulder, and fell asleep in the circle of his arms.

The next time they woke it was light out, and Arthur made Merlin come again, sucking his cock until it was red and hard and Merlin was pleading mindlessly. He was still wet inside, still relaxed, and he threw his head back and whined as Arthur stretched him open with fingers and tongue again. If Arthur had his way Merlin would have no duties but to stay in his bed forever, and Arthur would have nothing to do but remain with him and make him thoroughly his. As it is, though, Merlin has other things to do. Things he has to get up out of bed for.

The first time Merlin tried to rise to his feet, his knees buckled, and he sat back on the bed, gasping softly at the burn. Arthur rolled over to the side of the bed, next to Merlin, raked his teeth down Merlin’s side and whispered into his skin, “Does it hurt too badly?” Merlin flushed, shook his head. Wet his lips and said softly, “It hurts just enough.” Arthur smiled, drew Merlin’s head down for a filthy kiss, and sent him on his way. Merlin dressed himself with stumbling fingers, couldn’t tie his scarf the first time, and when he managed, it still didn’t cover up the bruises on his neck. He walked out of the room with evidence of the previous night and the morning in his halting walk, and Arthur had watched him go with satisfied, burning eyes.

Arthur watches him now as well, feels heat spark through his body every time Merlin’s step falters, every time his cheeks light with color and he looks at Arthur, then looks away. Merlin is quiet, for once. Merlin is an uncharacteristically compliant servant. Merlin bends down to the ground when Arthur drops his napkin at lunch, retrieves it with a wince and a soft, barely-there gasp, and Arthur wants to take him over the table, probably wouldn’t care if his father and Morgana and whatever noble they’re entertaining at the moment remain behind to watch.

Instead, he takes the napkin from Merlin’s hand and makes sure every filthy, obscene thought he’s having is visible in his eyes. Merlin swallows, inhales, and turns away sharply to hide his furious blush.

Arthur doesn’t see Merlin for the next few hours; they have separate duties, after all. He walks around half-hard inside his breeches and wonders if Merlin can still feel his fingers stretching him open, the slow burn of his cock sliding inside him. When he finally sees Merlin, it’s in the stables, and he seizes up with sudden fury at the sight of one of the stable boys talking to Merlin, standing far too close to him and smiling up at him knowingly. Merlin catches sight of him and backs away from the stable boy, looks at Arthur with unmistakable relief.

“Merlin,” Arthur snaps, glares murderously at the stable boy, who takes a step back and turns pale. “Come with me.”

He turns and feels Merlin’s presence following him at his back, but doesn’t say anything until they’re inside the castle.

“We were only talking, you know,” Merlin tells him. “I wouldn’t ever—“

Arthur turns, pushes Merlin against the wall. Holds him there with a hand across his chest and brings the other down to rest on the curve of his arse, says roughly, “ _Mine_. This is _mine_.” Merlin’s nod stutters when Arthur runs a knuckle between his legs, pressing at his hole through the cloth of his breeches. The hallway is empty, silent. Arthur can hear Merlin’s breathing, slightly ragged, and his pulse pounds in his body. Arthur slides the hand on Merlin’s chest until it rests over his heart, dips his head until his lips touch Merlin’s ear. He whispers, “This is mine, too,” and Merlin’s fervent “Yours, Arthur, only yours,” rushes through Arthur like every fight he’s ever won, every bright and impossible dream he’s ever dreamt.

\--

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End file.
